A Sister's Secret (37 page)

“For the Lord Go d will help me; therefore shall I not be confounded: therefore have I set my face like a flint; and I know that I shall not be ashamed.”

“Thank You, Lord,” Grace whispered. “I needed the reminder that You’re here to help me.” She rose from the bed and, with a sense of renewed determination, left the room and headed downstairs to fix breakfast.

Anna sat at the kitchen table with a piece of paper and a pencil. Her faceless doll lay in her lap. It was good to see her taking an interest in things again.

“Good morning, daughter.” Grace bent to kiss Anna’s forehead. “What are you doing?”

“Me and Martha with no face are drawin’ a picture for Poppy. We want him to come see us soon.”

Grace took a seat beside Anna. “You still miss your Grandpa Davis, don’t you?”

Anna nodded, and tears welled in her eyes.

“The last letter we had from your poppy said he’s feeling some better but isn’t up to traveling just yet.”

“Can we go see him?”

“I don’t think so, Anna.”

“How come?”

“We’re busy with things here.” Grace pressed her hand against her stomach. “And I’m not feeling well myself these days, so a long trip isn’t a good idea.”

Anna’s eyes opened wide. “Are you gonna die like Grandma Davis and my puppy?”

“No, dear one, I’m not sick; I’m pregnant.” Grace reached for Anna’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “That means in a few months you’ll have a little sister or brother to play with.”

The child’s mouth fell open. “You’re gonna have a boppli?”

Grace nodded and smiled. It pleased her to hear Anna speaking German-Dutch.

“A baby sister would be better’n havin’ a puppy,” Anna said with a grin. “Can I name her?”

“Don’t you think we’d better wait and see whether it’s a boy or a girl?”

Anna giggled. “Guess it would be kinda silly if a boy had a girl’s name, huh?”

“Jah. We’ll also have to wait and see what the baby’s daadi has to say about choosing a name.”

Anna’s eyebrows drew together. “Who’s the baby’s daddy gonna be?”

“Why, Cleon, of course. He’s my husband.”

Anna shook her head forcibly. “My daddy’s name was Wade. Poppy said so.”

“I used to be married to Wade, and he was your daadi. But now I’m married to Cleon. He’s the daadi of the boppli I’m carrying.” Grace placed Anna’s hand against her slightly protruding stomach.

“I don’t like Cleon. He don’t like me, neither.”

Grace sat dumbfounded, not knowing how to respond. She’d seen the way Cleon reacted to Anna—seeming to barely tolerate her. He wasn’t Anna’s father, but he was her stepfather, whether he liked it or not. Just because he was angry at Grace gave him no right to ignore Anna the way he did.

“I’m sure Cleon doesn’t dislike you, Anna,” she said, wrapping her arms around the child. “It’s going to take some time for the two of you to get better acquainted.”

Anna sat staring at the table.

Grace finally pushed her chair aside and stood. “What would you like for breakfast?”

No comment.

“How about pancakes and maple syrup?”

A little grunt escaped the child’s lips as she shrugged her slim shoulders.

“All right, then. Pancakes, it is.”

***

As Judith prepared breakfast for her family, she thought about the missing items in her husband’s toolbox. Could Roman have misplaced them, or was it possible that Cleon had borrowed some things and forgotten to mention it? She grimaced as she stared out the window. Rain rattled against the roof. Maybe someone had been in Roman’s shop and stolen the tools. But if that were so, how did they get in without breaking a window or tampering with the lock on the door?

Thunder clapped. Judith gasped. “Oh, how I dislike
dunner
and
wedderleech.
Haven’t liked it since I was a girl.”

Roman stepped up behind Judith and put his arms around her waist. “No need for you to fear. I’m here to protect you.”

She leaned against his chest and sighed. “I wish we were safe from all outside forces.”

“We need to trust God with every area of our lives—the weather included.”

“I wasn’t thinking about the weather. I was thinking about the attacks and wishing they would stop.”

“We can’t be sure those missing things from my toolbox were stolen, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Judith turned to face him. “Have you remembered where you put them?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure Cleon must have borrowed them.” Roman shrugged. “We’ll know soon enough, because I’m certain he’ll be home soon.”

“It isn’t good for him and Grace and to be apart like this. They’re newlyweds, and they shouldn’t be sleeping in separate bedrooms.”

“Give them time to work things out, and whatever you do, don’t meddle.”

“Jah, I know.” She nodded toward the window. “Sure hope this rain lets up. I’ve got some washing to do today, and I was counting on hanging the clothes outside on the line. I also need to go down to the phone shed to make that dental appointment for you.”

He shook his head. “You stay put in the house. I’ll make the call myself.”

She nodded as another clap of thunder rumbled, shaking the house. “Sure hope no one’s barn or house gets struck by lightning today.”

***

Grace spent the rest of her day cleaning, mending, and trying to keep Anna occupied. The rain hadn’t let up, and the child was anxious to go outside and play. At the moment, she was taking a nap, which gave Grace enough time to get some baking done. She’d just put two rhubarb pies in the oven when she heard footsteps on the porch, and the back door creaked open.

“You busy?” Martha asked as she stepped into the room, holding a black umbrella in her hands.

“Just put a couple of pies in the oven. Come on in. We can have a cup of tea.”

Martha placed the umbrella in the old metal milk can sitting near the back door, removed her lightweight shawl, and took a seat at the table.

“Sure is nasty weather we’re having,” Grace commented.

Martha nodded and glanced around the room. “Where’s Anna?”

“Upstairs taking a much-needed nap.”

“I’m glad she’s not about, because I don’t think it would be good for her to hear what I have to say.”

Chills ran up Grace’s spine as she took a seat across from her sister. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to another one of Heidi’s pups?”

Martha shook her head. “The dogs are fine, but I can’t say the same for poor Alma Wengerd.”

“Ach! What’s wrong with Alma?”

“She’s dead. Dad got the news when Bishop King dropped by his shop this morning.”

“What happened to Alma?”

“She’d gone out to feed the chickens, and when she didn’t come back to the house, Abe went looking. He found her on the ground a few feet from the chicken coop. She’d been struck by a bolt of lightning.”

Grace gasped. “Oh, that’s baremlich!”

Martha nodded soberly. “I know it’s terrible. Alma was a friend of Mom’s, and she’s terribly broken up over this.”

Grace stared at the table as tears gathered in her eyes. “After last night, I didn’t think things could get much worse around here, but I guess I was wrong.”

“What happened last night?”

“First, I ran into Gary Walker in the hallway outside the women’s restroom at the restaurant.”

“Did he say something to upset you?”

“Gary always says things to upset me.” Grace swallowed hard. “I wish he’d leave Holmes County and never come back.”

“I’ve been praying for that—not just because you think he’s the one responsible for the attacks, but because I know that seeing him makes you think about the past.”

Grace sniffed and turned to reach for a tissue from the box sitting on the counter behind her. “Something else happened last night that upset me, too.”

“What was it?”

“When Anna and I got home, we found a package on the porch.”

“A birthday present?”

“I thought so at first.” Grace blew her nose and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I made the mistake of letting Anna open it, and—”

“And what, Grace? What was inside the package?”

“A dead maus.”

“That’s
ekelhaft!
Who in their right mind would do such a disgusting thing?”

“Gary Walker, that’s who.”

“You really think he’s responsible?”

Grace nodded. “As I’ve told you before, he said he would get even with me someday.”

“That was several years ago. Surely the man’s not still angry because you married his friend.”

The back door opened, and Ruth stepped into the room. “Whew, this is some weather we’ve been having. You should have seen all the water on the road. I had a hard time seeing out the front buggy window on my way home.” She set her umbrella in the milk can next to Martha’s, hung her shawl on a wall peg, and hurried over to the table. “Have you got any tea made? I could sure use some about now.”

Grace reached for the pot sitting on the table and poured her sister a cup of tea.

“Have you heard about Abe’s Alma? Is that why you’re here?” Martha asked as Ruth took the offered cup.

“Haven’t heard a thing about Alma. What about her?”

“She’s dead. Struck down by a lightning bolt right there in her yard.”

Ruth’s eyes widened. “Ach, what a shame!”

“That leaves Abe with six kinner to raise. He’s surely going to need some help in the days ahead,” Grace put in.

Ruth nodded with a somber expression. “I’m sure their relatives will pitch in.”

Grace moaned. “So much sadness going on around us these days. Sometimes I wonder how much more we can take.”

Ruth set her cup down and reached over to touch Grace’s hand. “Despite the sad news about Alma, I’ve got another piece of news that might bring a smile to your face.”

“What news is that?”

Martha leaned forward. “I’d be interested in hearing some good news for a change, too.”

“That reporter you used to date came into the bakeshop today, and he mentioned that his work was done here and that he’d be heading to Wisconsin soon to do some stories about the Amish there.” Ruth squeezed Grace’s fingers. “Now you can quit worrying about running into him every time you go to town. And if the attacks on us should quit, we’ll know he was responsible.”

Grace sighed as a feeling of relief flooded over her. Maybe now they could stop worrying about being attacked and concentrate on helping Abe and his family plan Alma’s funeral and make it through the days ahead.

Chapter 43

The sky was a dismal gray, and the air felt much too chilly for a spring morning, but at least there was no rain on the day of Alma Wengerd’s funeral. As family and friends gathered at the cemetery to say their final good-byes to Alma, Ruth’s heart ached for the six children Alma had left behind. Molly, age two; Owen, who was four; six-year-old Willis; Esta, age eight; ten-year-old Josh; and the oldest, Gideon, who was twelve, huddled close to their father as they stood near Alma’s coffin.

Alma had been only thirty-two years old when she’d been snatched from the world so unexpectedly. The sweet-tempered woman, still in the prime of her life, would never see her children raised or enjoy becoming a grandmother someday. It tore at Ruth’s heartstrings to think of these little ones without a mother, and she wondered how Abe would manage to take care of the house, do all his chores, watch out for the children, and run his harness shop.

She glanced over at Martin, who stood near his parents. He hadn’t attended the main funeral that was held at Abe’s house, but he’d shown up in time for the graveside service. Ruth wondered if he would be expected to do more work at the harness shop now, since Abe would have additional family responsibilities. Martin seemed like such a kind young man, and she felt sure he would do all he could to help lighten Abe’s load.

If Ruth didn’t already have a job at the bakeshop in town, she might offer to work for Abe as his maid, but she’d heard that his unmarried sister who lived in Illinois would be coming to care for his children.

As Alma’s four pallbearers lifted the long, felt straps that had been placed around each end of the coffin and lowered it slowly into the ground, Ruth drew her attention back to the gravesite. Death was a horrible thing, and she couldn’t imagine how Abe must feel after losing his wife of thirteen years. The closest people Ruth had ever lost were her grandparents, and she couldn’t conceive of how it would be to lose a mate.

As short boards were placed over the casket by one of the men, Abe bent down and scooped his youngest child into his arms. Maybe Molly had become fussy, or perhaps Abe had picked her up in order to offer himself some measure of comfort. The tall man with reddish-brown hair and a full beard to match showed no outward signs of grief other than the somber expression on his face.

Gideon leaned over and whispered something in Josh’s ear, and little Esta moaned as she clasped her two younger brothers’ hands.